


Playing With Fire

by honggjoongie



Series: Ateez Kink Exploration [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Art thief Kim Hongjoong, Gun Kink, Interrogation, M/M, Object Insertion, Oneshot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Police Officer Park Seonghwa, Public Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Smut, seongjoong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 14:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30022860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honggjoongie/pseuds/honggjoongie
Summary: Kim Hongjoong is undoubtedly the most frustrating criminal Seonghwa has ever interrogated, but it's never quite ended up like this.OrHongjoong's a little shit until he gets railed, Seonghwa discovers a new use for his gun
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Series: Ateez Kink Exploration [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2208546
Comments: 19
Kudos: 142





	Playing With Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, I've had this idea for a while and wanted to try my hand at it, so I hope you like how it turned out. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I have no idea how the police system works, or interrogations, so I tried my best but this is all pulled out of my ass :)
> 
> Disclaimer 2: Obviously what they do is extremely dangerous and should not be attempted
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

Seonghwa expects his latest assignment to be cut and dry, easily resolved, paperwork finished in time for dinner. When cases of petty theft started popping up around the city, they were investigated at the crawling pace of a department that’s perpetually swamped with crime, but when they start escalating, specifying to repeat cases of priceless art being stolen from museums and rare collections, it earns itself a place in the spotlight, all hands on deck. 

Seonghwa’s been an officer for more years than he’s bothered to keep track of, making him confident in his abilities and assured of his skills. That’s why the now high profile case is passed off to him with stern orders to apprehend those responsible and shut it down. Seonghwa has no doubt in his mind that he’ll be able to do just that. 

Three months later, Seonghwa is sleep deprived, caffeine addicted, and thoroughly pissed off, let alone not any closer to capturing a single soul responsible for the continuously stolen art.

He’s spent countless nights going over evidence, racking his brain, searching their databases, looking for any clues, any connections,  _ anything.  _ The crime scenes are always spotless, the work of someone who clearly knows what they’re doing. Every time Seonghwa goes home empty handed after yet another prized piece of artwork goes missing, the sting of failure curling hot in his gut, his determination only flares up brighter until it’s all consuming, fueling the anger simmering in his veins.

He finally gets the break he desperately needs when he manages to pinpoint a pattern between the targets one night between his endless cups of coffee, tired eyes scanning the same data for the hundredth time behind drooping lids, until they fly open, the lightbulb going off above his head almost tangible to his sleep muddled mind. He follows a hunch on a museum that the thieves will hit next, receiving the resources he needs to execute the plan he concocts. 

In the middle of the night, Seonghwa and a choice number of other officers wait in the darkness of the empty museum. Seonghwa’s breath almost echoes around him in the silent open space, spots forming shapes in the black around him. As time ticks by he grows impatient, forcing his foot not to tap against the cold ground. He’s nearly ready to call the whole thing off when a figure he doesn’t recognize moves in the shadows. 

He freezes, his breath hitching as he focuses on the figure slinking through the displays with elegance that raises his eyebrows. He lifts a hand, aware of the eyes on him, and he lets the faceless figure approach one of the displays, allowing a false sense of security to fall over the thief, and then he gives the signal. 

He snaps forward, his rage at the elusive criminal guiding his movements, barely aware of his fellow officers flanking him as he grips the thief’s arms and yanks them behind their back. They have guns trained on the thief, his wrists now encircled in handcuffs, and Seonghwa hears his own voice reciting his rights. The thief says nothing, just lets Seonghwa lead him to the cop car now waiting outside the museum, flashing lights painting the nearby buildings blue and red. The thief’s face is obscured by a mask, small body covered in all black, but his dark eyes bore into Seonghwa’s as he’s placed in the back seat of the cop car. 

Seonghwa slams the car door closed against the shiver that tickles its way up his spine.

His sense of accomplishment is dampened by concern over why the thief is alone when there’s no way he could’ve been pulling off all the crimes solo, as well as the foreboding feeling that this was somehow too easy, but he shakes the doubts off, lets them roll off his shoulders, and enjoys a full night’s sleep for the first time in far too long. 

  
  


Seonghwa insists that he be the one to interrogate the thief they brought in, his weeks of hard work culminating in his chance to face the bastard and get the answers that have still managed to infuriatingly slip through his fingers. He goes through his morning feeling jittery with nerves, time seeming to creep by too slowly, and he decides to indulge his restlessness and go into work early to look over everything he’s compiled one more time. 

At the office he’s met with pats on the back and congratulations that he’d managed to nab one of the infamous thieves and make significant headway on the case. He’d be lying if he said the praise doesn’t go to his head and inflate his ego, but he doesn’t let the feeling linger, unsatisfied until he squeezes every drop of information from the criminal that he can and puts the case to rest once and for all, the thief thrown to rot behind bars where he belongs. 

Before Seonghwa walks through the door to the viewing room he stops, taking a deep breath. He knows he looks like the epitome of professionalism and intimidation; black button up tucked into black slacks, a black blazer accompanying, black leather gloves on his hands, and his gun snug in the holster around his waist. He lets his confidence flow through him, standing up a little straighter, shoulders back, and he pushes through the door, continuing through the empty viewing room and into the interrogation room in a succession of sure, fluid strides. 

His step wavers before the door closes behind him. 

He doesn’t know what he’d pictured was behind the mask of the man he’d arrested, but he’s certain that it wasn’t what’s in front of him. He’d read the name Kim Hongjoong on his file, even his age, which isn’t far from Seonghwa’s own, but he still never thought to put a face to the name that wasn’t contorted with immorality and corruption. 

The same dark eyes are sharp as they stare at him, but this time Seonghwa can see the slope of his jaw, his full, pink lips, the even pinker tongue that darts out to wet them, the smirk in place on them. Kim looks even smaller, sitting in the stiff interrogation chair, wrists in handcuffs wrapped around the bar in the center of the table, but he doesn’t seem to curl into himself the way most in his position do, his stare never leaving Seonghwa’s. 

Seonghwa narrows his eyes, hands twitching at the smirk that only seems to curl wider when he sits down across from the criminal.

“If I’d known the officer would be so hot, I would’ve gotten arrested a long time ago.” 

Seonghwa’s tongue twists in knots when Kim speaks up before him. Seonghwa’s brow furrows, frowning slightly before he wipes his face neutral, remembering what he’s trying to accomplish. 

“So, Kim Hongjoong, 24 years old,” Seonghwa starts, ignoring the other’s comment completely, ensuring his voice is even, “eight counts of grand theft, five counts of fraud, larceny from some of the most prestigious art museums in South Korea, and you expect me to believe you did it all on your own?” 

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow in disbelief, but to his mortification Kim only grins at him, white teeth glinting under the fluorescent light, a predator in every sense of the word. Seonghwa bristles, anger pumping through him. He’d only just stepped in the room and nothing is going according to plan. He grits his teeth, forcing himself to focus on anything but the way Kim’s eyes rake over him.

“Why, are you impressed?” Kim leans forward, handcuffs rattling against the bar they’re attached to. 

Seonghwa holds onto his air of uninterest, leveling Kim with a steely gaze, “Listen, Mr. Kim, you seem like a smart enough guy, so you should know that the more you tell me, the more I can help you with the admittedly lengthy prison sentence you’re facing.” 

“Maybe there’s something else you can help me with that’s lengthy.” Kim smiles, teeth on show, his tongue dipping out to run over the points of them as his eyes drag towards Seonghwa’s crotch. “And please, call me Hongjoong.” Seonghwa’s heart skips a beat, heat rushing to his cheeks.

At a loss for words and stubborn in his resolve to steer this interrogation back on track if it’s the last thing he does, infuriating prisoner aside, Seonghwa takes a deep breath, folding his hands on top of the table, his leather gloves creaking. 

“I get that it’s worth a lot of money, but tell me, why only steal art?” He prays that a different angle might yield more helpful and less provoking results.

“Because it’s pretty, and I like pretty things,” Kim’s eyes sharpen, lips in their unending smirk, “and I’ve never seen anything more pretty than you, officer.” 

Well, so much for that. Seonghwa gulps.

“It’s in your best interest to be honest with me, so just give me a name. Who works with you?” 

Kim examines his finger nails, frustratingly unbothered, “You know you only caught me because I wanted you to, right?” 

That makes Seonghwa freeze, mind running a thousand miles a minute to catch up. Kim has to be lying, Seonghwa’s good at his job, he’s just trying to get under his skin.

“Just answer the question, Kim.” Seonghwa growls.

“Are you gonna make me?” Kim’s eyes flit down to the gun at Seonghwa’s waist, “Little officer that couldn’t catch the art thief except for when I wanted to play?” 

Another flash of bright white, razor sharp teeth, and Seonghwa’s resolve snaps. 

“Just answer the question!” He jerks to his feet, chair squealing against the hard floor, his hands slapping against the table, his chest heaving in boiling rage. 

Kim only bites his lip, “Now we’re getting somewhere.” 

Seonghwa’s hands tremble, anger and confusion swirling through him, Kim still staring at him with that goddamn smirk. His hand moves before he registers it, pulling his gun from it’s holster and aiming it at the prisoner, the metal cold even through his gloves and it’s weight familiar in his grasp. His blood rushes in his ears. 

“I think you should remember who’s in charge here.” His voice is like gravel, his throat tight.

Kim’s eyes are glued to the gun aimed at him, and Seonghwa almost sighs with the relief that the thief might finally cooperate, finally be intimidated. That is, until Kim stands to mirror him and leans further forward, his forehead pressed against the barrel of the gun, his eyes staring into Seonghwa’s, unwavering.

“Show me.”

Without thinking Seonghwa storms to the other side of the table, wrenching Kim’s chair away and pressing the gun to his temple. He pretends he doesn’t hear the way Kim gasps, pretends he can’t feel the heat radiating off of him from where his back is almost against Seonghwa’s chest. 

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, but it ends now.” 

Seonghwa’s never reacted this viscerally to an interrogation before, never let himself give in to his emotions no matter how irritating or frustrating the captive, but then again he’s never interrogated Kim Hongjoong before.

Kim turns his head ever so slightly, not shying away from the gun pressed to it in the least, “Oh we’re just getting started, pretty boy.”

With a huff Seonghwa closes the gap between them, pushing Kim’s hips against the table as they align, his dick jumping from the pressure, fingers twitching around the gun, his lips just behind Kim’s ear. 

“God, now I wish you’d just shut up.” 

“I will if you make me.” 

With his free hand Seonghwa grips Kim’s shoulder and yanks it back, twisting him as much as he can with his wrists still attached to the bar. He doesn’t let himself think past the fury tangling in his head and the arousal curling in his gut as he crashes his lips against Hongjoong’s. 

Hongjoong moans into his mouth, melting against Seonghwa as he thrusts his tongue down his throat. He doesn’t let up his hold on the gun against his head, his other hand snaking down to grab Hongjoong’s slim waist. He doesn’t think about the cameras pointed at them or the fact that anyone could walk in the viewing room and see them, he just lets himself get lost in the hot slide of Hongjoong’s full lips against his, lets the buzz in his veins fill his head with a pleasant haze. 

Seonghwa breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down Hongjoong’s neck, letting his tongue tease and taste his skin. 

“Oh come on, is that all you got?” Hongjoong’s cocky voice grates against Seonghwa’s nerves. He bites down, hard, the cry that escapes Hongjoong’s lips satisfying. 

Seonghwa leans back, shoving Hongjoong down so his chest is flush with the table, a small huff punched from his lungs. He turns his head to lay it on the table, and Seonghwa sees that his smug smirk is still present. Seonghwa sneers, determined to wipe it off. 

He presses harder on Hongjoong’s back as a reminder to stay put before he takes his hands off completely and falls to his knees. He yanks Hongjoong’s pants down, mouth watering at his round, firm ass, boxers nowhere to be found. When he spreads his cheeks, squeezing the soft skin, he sees his hole already shiny with slick. He hears Hongjoong chuckle from above him. 

“I told you I got arrested because I wanted to play.” 

Seonghwa hums with a light smack on Hongjoong’s ass in an attempt to quiet him before he leans in, licking a stripe over Hongjoong’s hole. He licks over it again, teasing his pucker with the tip of his tongue before pulling it back, sucking at his rim. 

“I’m falling asleep here.” Hongjoong’s voice is layered in disinterest, but Seonghwa doesn’t miss the way it wavers.

Annoyed, he smacks Hongjoong’s cheek again, harder this time, the slap loud in the otherwise quiet room, his soft skin tinged red. Hongjoong doesn’t say anything else apart from the hitch of his breath, appeasing Seonghwa enough to plunge his tongue into Hongjoong’s hole. The thief’s breath picks up as Seonghwa thrusts his tongue in and out, licking at his rim, fucking it into him as deeply as he can, the muscle opening up easily due to Hongjoong’s apparent preparation. 

“Yeah, just like that baby.” Hongjoong rocks back onto Seonghwa’s tongue, until he pulls it out of him completely. 

He stands and leans over Hongjoong, letting his weight press him more firmly against the table, his hand gripping his chin to turn his head towards him. 

“I thought I told you to shut up.” He snarls. 

“And I thought I told you to make me.” 

Seonghwa growls, leaning back enough to lower his hand, the one still holding his gun.

“Oh fuck-” Hongjoong finally loses his smug confidence when Seonghwa presses the barrel against his hole. 

It’s Seonghwa’s turn to smirk as he slides the gun into Hongjoong, indulging in the way he squirms underneath him, his chest heaving and breath hitching with every exhale, yet still pushing back to get the cold metal deeper inside him. Seonghwa pushes the gun into him as much as he can before pulling it out, fucking him with it slowly, listening to his mewls of fear and whines of pleasure. 

He leans over the smaller, lets his breath ghost over his ear, “So that’s all it takes to shut you up, huh? Stuffing your greedy hole with my gun?”

Hongjoong groans, the sound going straight to Seonghwa’s neglected cock. Seonghwa slides his gun deeper into him, making Hongjoong’s back arch and his mouth fall open, before he pulls it out, leaving his hole clenching around the emptiness. 

“Want you to fuck me.” Hongjoong whines, and Seonghwa decides he doesn’t want to make him shut up anymore. He wants to make him beg. 

“Seonghwa.” Is all he grunts before he’s sliding his gun back inside Hongjoong.

With one hand he holds Hongjoong down against the table, the other pumping his gun in and out of him, his aching cock rubbing against his thigh. Seonghwa bites hit lip, the urge to bury his cock deep inside Hongjoong burning through every inch of him, but he focuses on watching his gun sink into him instead. Hongjoong whimpers with every thrust, his knuckles white as he grips the bar in front of him. 

“Want your cock Seonghwa.” Hongjoong pants. 

“Mm, I like the way you say my name,” Seonghwa hums, “bet you’d sound even prettier begging for me.” 

Seonghwa expects the smaller to put up resistance, to throw back a smug or witty response, but Hongjoong only groans, his head falling against his arms, his body hot and pliant. 

“Please Seonghwa- please fuck me, need it so bad,” Hongjoong’s voice breaks on a gasp, “P-please give me your cock, want to feel you inside me.” 

“Fuck Joong-” Seonghwa’s movements still, his cock throbbing with need. The breathy chuckle he hears from Hongjoong at his crumbling composure should annoy or frustrate him further, but it only adds to the overwhelming arousal crashing through him. 

He pulls his gun out of Hongjoong again, laying it next to him on the table, running his hands over his skin to soothe him when he whines at the loss. 

He tugs his pants and boxers down, his swollen dick springing free. He wraps his hand around it, pumping it and throwing his head back with a low moan. When Hongjoong turns his head to look at him his other hand grips the back of his neck with a growl, forcing him to look forward again. 

He’s satisfied when both of his hands find Hongjoong’s waist and the smaller stays where Seonghwa put him as he lines up his cock, the head pressing against his hole. He pushes in slowly, fire licking up his nerves as he’s enveloped by Hongjoong’s heat, pleasure quickly pooling in his gut after waiting for so long. He groans at the feeling, the sound mixing with Hongjoong’s gasps as he sinks inside him fully.

“Oh my god-” Hongjoong moans, Seonghwa stilling, letting them both catch their labored breaths.

He pulls out of him before sliding back in, every inch pure euphoria, his fingers digging into Hongjoong’s skin as he holds tightly onto him, slamming into him when his resolve dries up. Hongjoong only cries out louder, lying limp on the table and letting Seonghwa take him apart. 

Seonghwa groans with every thrust inside Hongjoong, his tight hole like heaven around his cock. He pants, fucking Hongjoong roughly, the sounds of their skin meeting and the wet slide of his cock as he pounds into him filthy in the perfect way, Hongjoong’s pretty whines pushing it over into addicting, ruining Seonghwa completely. 

“Do you still- ah fuck- do you still want to know who I work with?” Hongjoong’s voice is fucked out, but Seonghwa can still hear the smug giggle underneath. 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, snapping his hips forward to make Hongjoong stutter, but instead of barking at the other to be quiet, Seonghwa’s eyes trail across the table. Stilling his thrusts, Seonghwa grips Hongjoong’s head, turning it to the side, before he grabs his gun and shoves it into Hongjoong’s mouth. Hongjoong’s whole body trembles, and he moans around the gun. Seonghwa smiles, and slams his cock into him again. 

He holds onto the gun, letting Hongjoong suckle on it, groaning around it while he fucks him. He shifts, Hongjoong’s whole body lighting up with a muffled cry around the gun, as Seonghwa’s cock hits his prostate. Seonghwa holds onto his hip with his free hand, pulling him back to meet him with every thrust, relentlessly slamming against the spot inside Hongjoong that makes his thighs shudder.

He feels hot pressure gather in his gut, from the way Hongjoong’s pink lips wrap around his gun, little moans bubbling up from his throat, to the way his puffy hole wraps around his cock, making sparks explode behind his eyes as he pumps it in and out of him. 

“Gonna- gonna cum.” Seonghwa grunts, flames reducing him down to panting remains of pleasure as he chases his release inside Hongjoong, pistoning his hips into him harshly.

Hongjoong only moans again, pushing back to get Seonghwa’s cock deeper, a clear and irresistible invitation. 

Any semblance of control now lost, Seonghwa pounds Hongjoong against the table, both of them shaking and gasping. Seonghwa knows Hongjoong would've been screaming if it weren't for the gun still between his lips as he cums untouched, trembling and moaning. 

His hole clenches around Seonghwa, making him gasp, hips stuttering before he's slamming into Hongjoong harder. His mind and body are searing as his gut churns with heat, building until he buries his cock deep inside Hongjoong and stills, panting, painting his walls white with his cum. Hongjoong milks him with his hole, moaning so prettily for him, sending him soaring over the edge into pure white hot bliss. 

Seonghwa’s chest heaves as he falls limp over Hongjoong, his ears ringing and body utterly spent. Pleasure sings through him, his head caught in the clouds of one of the best orgasms he's ever had, and he's in no rush to lose the lingering feeling, not that he could move quite yet if he tried anyways, Hongjoong’s small body warm and soft underneath him. 

He grumbles when Hongjoong starts shifting, disturbing the delicate balance of awake and unconscious that he’d been drifting in. When he feels Hongjoong’s lips on his and his small hands on his skin he sighs happily, content and floaty with the feeling. 

But wait- when had Hongjoong turned around? And how? 

Seonghwa feels nimble fingers pull his pants up for him, tucking him back into his boxers before zipping him up. He goes to move, but instead he feels cold hard metal wrap around his wrists. He yanks against the bounds, a clanging accompanying his attempts, but they don’t yield. Hongjoong- handcuffed him? 

“What?” It feels like he’s talking through cotton, still so tired as he lifts his head.

He watches as Hongjoong, already clothed himself, brings the chair he'd previously been in over to him, guiding to sit down. It soothes his aching legs, but only furthers his growing confusion. 

“Shh.” Hongjoong’s voice is soft, and Seonghwa wants to hear more of it. 

Hongjoong leans down and kisses him again, Seonghwa fighting against his brain to just let him enjoy the moment, enjoy his lips. He vaguely registers the door opening, and he clenches his eyes shut against the reality that he’ll be fired and Hongjoong will be taken to prison, where Seonghwa will never see him again. 

Hongjoong pulls back, and Seonghwa blinks his eyes open, the fluorescent light suddenly too harsh. Three officers walk in, masks covering their mouths and noses, but Seonghwa’s sure he must be dreaming when they don't move to apprehend Hongjoong, they simply stand next to him. The four of him are looking back at him, Hongjoong’s features fond, the others’ in various shades of boredom or intrigue. 

“Wow, you weren't kidding about how pretty he is.” The officer with black hair falling over his face comments, eyes roaming over Seonghwa. 

“Hey!” The one with surprisingly vibrant pink hair argues, and Seonghwa can hear his pout behind the mask. 

“Not prettier than you of course.” The other coos, leaning over to wrap his arms around him. “But seriously though, I get why you were so adamant about doing this.” He adds, directed towards Hongjoong. 

“Still a stupid plan though.” The third officer speaks. 

“Whatever Yeo-” 

“Guys!” 

Hongjoong interrupts the black haired one before he can get out the rest of the third one’s name, pinching the ridge of his nose. The three officers that Seonghwa’s concluded aren't officers at all fall silent. 

“We should probably get out of here now.” The third one states. 

“Yeah, okay.”

Seonghwa’s at a loss for words as Hongjoong kneels next to him, the whole situation nearly unbelievable if he didn't experience it himself. Hongjoong runs his fingers through Seonghwa’s hair and he can't find it in himself to be angry at him. 

“Thank you.” Hongjoong smiles, wide and sweet, the sight implanting itself into Seonghwa's mind. 

He leans down to kiss Seonghwa one more time, just a soft press of lips that leaves him tingling, begging for more. Hongjoong stands, eyes still filled with warmth. 

“Nobody saw us, and we erased all the footage from the interrogation, so they'll just think I tricked you and escaped.” Hongjoong explains, equal parts pride and protectiveness in his voice. 

The four of them move towards the door, the group starting to walk out of it, and Seonghwa wishes he weren't handcuffed to the table so he could reach out and hold onto Hongjoong, stop him from leaving, but not for the reasons he should. 

Hongjoong pauses, the last to leave. 

“I’ll see you soon, officer.” He winks, smiling at Seonghwa, another flash of perfectly predatory teeth, and then he’s gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, let me know what you thought!
> 
> P.S. Is it just a coincidence that I had this idea, and then Seonghwa ended up using a gun in the Fireworks mv???


End file.
